Cruelty

It was a human.

More precisely, a human boy, about ten years old, yet more solid and taller than his peers. Perhaps due to years of physical activity, his limbs were long and bursting with explosive power, much like a newly matured snow wolf.

The boy had ash-gray, tousled hair, clearly cut haphazardly with a sharp tool, without any sense of style but exuding a wild and untamed air. Especially striking were his bright eyes, like rubies, defiant and untamed.

A faint smile on his face, he approached the fallen stag. Crouching down, he gently touched the stag's forehead, "Sorry, buddy. Food's been hard to come by lately, so you see, I can't let you go. Come on, let me ease your passing."

His hand on the dagger's hilt, he gently pulled, severing the stag's artery. Strangely, no blood spurted from the wound. When the boy withdrew the dagger from the carcass, the stag's blood seemed to boil on the blade!

The blood was mysteriously absorbed by the blade, vanishing without a trace. The dagger remained as clean as ever, the golden patterns reflecting the sunlight in faint circles. The boy glanced at the dagger, "You're getting greedier by the day."

He sheathed the dagger and strapped it to his waist. Grasping the stag's forelimbs, he hoisted the animal, larger than himself, onto his back. Heading towards the shade, he whispered, "I hope Byfang recovers quickly after eating this stag."

This boy was Asher, who had left the Gobi town with the silver snow wolf Byfang five years ago. Now a boy no longer, he had grown into a young man.

During those five years, Asher lived with the wolf pack. He learned to hunt with Byfang, acquiring many skills. Sometimes, looking at the dagger his mother left him, he remembered the stark black and white image.

The black ground, the white severed finger, and the silver ring on it, shining with sorrow.

Every time he saw this image, Asher had to bury himself in the winter snow to extinguish the burning flame in his heart. There, hatred for the man who abandoned his wife and child smoldered.

Ares! The father he had never met. One day, he would drive the cold dagger into that man's heart!

Approaching the wolf pack's valley, Asher suddenly heard gunfire. His face changed, and he dropped the stag to sprint forward.

Hunters!

This was bad because the wolf pack was going through a tough time. Byfang was injured—gravely so.

Half a year ago, the pack moved to a valley in these woods, where they found a cave spanning hundreds of square meters, the old lair of the snow wolves. To claim the cave, Byfang fought the previous tenant, a level-three Hazardous Species, a cave giant spider.

Byfang shredded the spider, but its dying counterattack left Byfang severely wounded.

Half a year passed, and Byfang's condition worsened. Its fur no longer shone with the silver brilliance Asher remembered. It had become dull and was falling out in clumps, with rotting flesh exposed underneath, the air around the silver wolf reeking of death.

If the pack was attacked by hunters now, they might refuse to leave because of Byfang, giving the hunters a chance to wipe them out. Snow wolves never abandon their kin, and this trait had taken root in Asher's soul.

Asher raced forward, soon reaching the valley's edge.

From afar, he saw soldiers firing into the valley, yellow smoke billowing with a pungent odor. Snow wolves were driven out, confused and disoriented, only to be gunned down into lifeless bodies. A particularly strong male wolf, Tony, charged forward despite being shot. He nearly broke through the soldiers' line of fire when Gutt took aim with his rifle and brought him down with a long burst. A few more shots sent Tony flying, convulsing on the ground, unable to rise again.

Tony was a lazy wolf, but a decent one.

Asher's already red eyes now seemed to bleed. He let out a youthful howl and leaped onto a camphor tree, then pounced on a soldier's back. Agile as a monkey, he drew his dagger and slit the soldier's throat, ending his life.

"Damn it!" A white soldier yelled, drawing his pistol for a burst at Asher.

Years in the wild had honed Asher's beast-like instincts. He ducked the gunfire and slid under the white soldier's legs. His dagger flashed in the afternoon sun, severing the soldier's tendons. The man screamed and fell to his knees, and Asher, like a wolf, pounced from behind.

The dagger's cold light flashed again, silencing another life.

Gunshots rang out, and Asher was hit in the right shoulder, dropping the dagger. Sensing the opportunity, he lunged forward, using the soldier's body as a shield. Asher picked up the dagger with his mouth, scrambled to his feet, and dodged another burst. His eyes caught Gutt's frustrated face.

In just a few seconds, a mere boy had killed two men. If word got out, Gutt's mercenary reputation would be a laughing stock until next spring. Furious, Gutt fired ruthlessly, his shots chasing Asher, who moved in a zigzag pattern, making the shots miss.

After several dodges, Asher closed in on Gutt's blind spot. He sprang up, releasing the dagger from his mouth, catching it with his left hand. His pupils dilated, blood racing through his veins, the dagger's tip flipped, streaking towards Gutt's throat. Gutt clenched his teeth, aiming his pistol at Asher's forehead.

Just as they seemed destined to die together, a hand appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Asher's wrist and flinging him away. Asher crashed into a tree trunk, then a fist swept across his face, knocking him to the ground. A foot pressed down on his head, the pressure increasing as if to crush his skull.

"Don't kill him," Andy, the group leader, called out.

"Why?" A woman's voice came from above.

"That kid looks like he was raised by wolves, a wolf child. Hey, don't you think it's an unexpected catch? Maybe some big shots in Babylon would fancy a novel pet," Andy said with a shrug. "Besides, old man Hern wants a boy with no records to replace his son in the survival games. I bet he'd pay a good price."

Asher struggled to move his head, catching a glimpse of the woman's thigh. She looked down at the boy and spat, "You're lucky, kid."

Then, a mournful howl echoed from the valley. Hearing it, Asher's heart tightened; it was Byfang.

Andy also raised his hand excitedly, signaling Gutt's soldiers to hold fire. Moments later, a staggering snow wolf emerged from the valley. Byfang looked much different, its fur no longer the shining silver Asher first saw. Now, it was dull and patchy, with signs of rot where the fur had fallen out.

The only unchanged feature was its serene blue eyes.

Seeing Byfang, Andy's smile froze, then he cursed, "What the hell is this? A silver snow wolf? Maybe it was, but what about now? Did I expend so much effort just to hunt something that's about to die?"

Byfang's current state meant that even if Andy killed it unscathed, it wouldn't fetch a good price. As Andy cursed, Byfang glanced at Asher. Their eyes met, and Asher understood Byfang was asking why he hadn't fled.

Asher gave a defiant smile.

Byfang growled lowly, then began to run. Just as Asher wouldn't abandon it or the pack, Byfang reciprocated his loyalty, considering him part of the pack. The ancient law of the wolves: let the young survive.

As Byfang charged towards the position, Andy leaped at it. Byfang breathed out a gust of icy wind, but weakened and in summer, the breath was thin and weak. Andy didn't even bother to dodge, punching Byfang's head as it passed through the ice breath.

Byfang hit the ground.

It shook its head, bounced up, and lunged at Andy again. With a strange twist, Andy evaded, and Byfang bit air. Andy circled Byfang, releasing thin purple Source Energy threads from his fingertips, wrapping Byfang slowly.

The more threads that bound it, the slower Byfang moved, until it was almost immobile. Andy patted its head, smiling at Asher, then yanked his hands apart, and Byfang was torn to pieces!

Asher's pupils expanded to their limit.

"No!"

He screamed, finding strength from somewhere to lift his head. Xenna looked surprised, then cursed and stomped Asher back into the dirt. Buried again, Asher could only see through one eye. His view caught Byfang's eyes as its head was neatly severed, those blue eyes calmly looking at Asher.

Just like five years ago, the last look Loretta gave him before parting. That fleeting glance was filled with too many emotions to be expressed in words.

Asher stared back at Byfang, as if to engrave its gaze into his soul.

Overwhelming grief engulfed him.

But he had no tears.

Five years ago, he lost Loretta.

Five years later, he lost Byfang.

Now, he was alone again. The world remained as cruel as ever.